


Izuru's non peaceful return

by em13bubble



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Background Enoshima Junko, Izuru stims, Kamukura Izuru Has Feelings, Kamukura deserves happiness too, Mentions of Violence, POV Kamukura Izuru, Remnants of Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Short Chapters, This is about Izuru tho so everyone elses roles are small, but nothing is described, duh - Freeform, nonbinary imposter, so does makoto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:35:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 9,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26418073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/em13bubble/pseuds/em13bubble
Summary: If Izuru woke up instead of Hajime.
Comments: 13
Kudos: 108





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> AU where when emerging from the Neo World Program, Izuru is the identity that wakes up. Briefly delves into Izuru's time with the Remnants. Also, an AU where Izuru didn't erase his memory of the 77th class.  
> ((First Public Fic!! I'm new here lol))  
> I just think Izuru also deserves some happiness.

Izuru Kamukura has exited out of a pod before. It was how he was born. 

He remembers he felt nothing in that time, a bland empty feeling in his body, knowing he was only a shell for the talents he possessed. A vessel, not real flesh and blood.

But this time was different.

This time it was like he felt everything. Every memory from his short life fills him up, mixing in with each other to make incomprehensible rage. The feeling boiled within him, starting from his gut and just overflowing. It reaches a point behind his eyes, corrupting his mind. He's never felt something so strongly, not even when he was that excuse for a human being, the horrendously human Hajime Hinata, did he ever feel this strongly about anything. 

But everything had reached its climax, everything was meant to be resolved, that's how this story should work. 

How… how…

“Dis.. a.. point.. ing.” his voice scrapes his throat on the way out after not being used for the months he was in the New World Program. 

The other survivors look to him. He wasn’t the first to break the silence, but apparently he had been stewing in his rage in silence for longer than he thought. His eyes shone a deep red as he looked at each and every one of them, only the four of them. Everyone whose avatar had been deleted were still blissfully unaware of the truth. 

They look awful. Izuru grips onto the border of the pod, memories flashing of being surrounded by doctors and teachers. The light was different, opposed to a room filled with lights, the only source here was the glow of the computer screens. The only thing keeping their classmates alive in their comatose state. Izuru’s head was pounding, and the feeling won't go away. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to cope by destroying something around him or by digging his nails into his own skin. He would do anything to dispel this feeling, to make it disperse, or just to feel something new. 

The one named Akane asks what was wrong, but he was already on his feet, walking to the door. Every step felt heavy, like he could break the concrete if he put any conscious effort into it. The others called after him, but they felt too weak to get up. Emotionally and Physically, they were weak. 

Weak.

He surrounded himself with such weak people. It wasn’t their fault they were like that, but it aggravated him nonetheless. They managed to be entertaining at the least when they were Remnants, but he can feel how the despair brainwashing has released its hold of them, leaving the crushed soul in its wake. 

“Dis.. A. Point.Ing..” He growls again. His voice still hurt him, and that made him tempted to say more to the empty halls he was finding himself in. He wanted to know the truth. He let himself be a subject, he let himself be a playable piece for Junko Enoshima, he let himself be _Hajime Hinata_ again so he could learn the truth. Hope or Despair? Hope or Despair? _Hope or Despair?_ _Hope or Despair? HOPE OR DESPAIR?_

_ HOPE OR DESPAIR? _

_ HOPE OR DESPAIR? _

_ HOPE OR DESPAIR? _

_ HOPE OR DESPAIR? _

_ HOPE OR DESPAIR? _

_ HOPE OR DESPAIR? _

_ He was supposed to learn. But once again the world proves disappointing. Boring. BORING. What did he expect from a group of cowards? Hiding from a choice in favor of something of their own design. An idiotic display.  _

He screams in frustration and punches a pane of glass that lined the walkway between buildings. It shatters and falls, pieces of glass bouncing off his bare feet. He was only in the medical robe after all. That makes him feel somewhat better, and keeps walking. 

The Future Foundation members will find him. He won’t let them do anything to him- not that they would try. He knew how Makoto Naegi and his team worked, he could predict how they would handle a runaway demigod. 

He wasn't running away though. He was walking. Glass shards were making his legs and feet bleed, but he doesn't pay it any mind. He feels tired after that little outburst, but not satisfied, so he keeps moving. 

What would be the thing to make him satisfied? To make him stop and truly think about why he was so angry upon waking up? Maybe a ghost of his past self. Hajime surely would like to get a word in, as he expected to when the Program was shut down. He thought he would be able to live once again. If Izuru were different, he might have felt remorse from the fact he was the one to return, and not the deceased reserve course student. But Hajime would not have mourned the loss of Izuru, so Izuru feels no similar calling. 

Perhaps the thought of Chiaki. 

With that, he stops. What would she say? Izuru has many memories of Chiaki, all from different versions of himself. Hajime Hinata by the fountain. Izuru Kamakura, in her last moments. Hajime Hinata in the Neo World Program.

“Chiaki..” his voice was still harsh, but he chose the soft volume this time, rather than it being the result of his throat burning. He swallows, closing his eyes. “Chiaki.. Does. not exist... To help. Meee…” acknowledging himself in a sentence made his stomach twist in disgust. He keeps walking. Chiaki was a human being, with dreams and goals, problems and bad habits. She was a real person who always tried to help others. However, Izuru Kamakura of all people does not deserve to turn to her for help. Thinking of her like someone who can solve everything makes him no better than an AI attaching to her image to be the observer. 

And Izuru was more than a computer. 

He didn’t know when it started but apparently, he had been quickly opening and closing his hand repeatedly as he walked. Stimming. Ah, maybe that's why he's calmed down a bit. 

He's sure the others have told the Foundation members about him, they’ll be looking for him. Well, Kyoko Kirigiri will be looking for him, with the other two helping the survivors adjust to a non-virtual world again. No doubt Naegi will be asking about their emotional state while Togami checks their vitals. 

The movement of his fingers becomes tiring so he switches to shaking his wrists, closing his fingers only occasionally. It was nice to do mindless things with his body when he was thinking too much, when there was almost too much going on to process.  _ Almost _ too much. He did share the talent of the Ultimate Analyzer, he could figure it all out in due time. He felt like all his talents had... Slowed. They weren’t being used in the simulation. Everything in his head feels… muddied. Nothing was coming as quick to him as before.

Perhaps that's Hinata’s fault. He was his alternative self for too long, his ordinary thought process might have infected him. 

The Foundation members probably will not be happy that the Ultimate Hope was here, and not the Reserve. There are many reasons for that, but mostly, he was not as easily controlled like this.

That was a problem when he came out of the first pod, too. Izuru Kamakura was much too unpredictable for the scientist's taste. He followed orders, sometimes. He threw people into walls, sometimes. He listened and played nice, sometimes. He witnessed mutual killings and allowed Mukuro Ikusaba to kill all the guards on the way in, sometimes. 

What do they expect from him now? Becoming the Ultimate Hope came with a set idea, no matter how vague. Surely they would need help recovering the others from their comatose, and the talents of the individuals who made the program live on within him. 

But after that? 

What is after that?

The 77th class has a lot of repairs to do on their minds and bodies, but they will want to pay for their sins. The only choice would be to join the Foundation and help restore the world. Help rebuild the world as it was...

A boring, useless world.. Where he didn't belong. He could feel his shoulders tense at the very idea. The boring world’s return will be a victory for so many, a new dawn with a blinding light. But it will all be stagnant and dull to someone like him. But what options did he have?

Play nice and help with the ex-remnants and the Foundation. 

Be locked up for not being the cooperative Hajime Hinata.

Be killed for his crimes. 

He could feel the uneasiness like an infection of worms under his skin, making him want to squirm to try and rid himself of it. 

“Hinata!” He heard the voice call out at the opening of the dark hallway he started down. Ah, he miscalculated. Maybe something really did get damaged within the program.

He doesn't turn around, instead, he simply looks over his shoulder so his pursuer could see his red eyes. 

Makoto Naegi takes a hesitant step back at the sight, “Ah... Izuru Kamukura.”

“Not who you were expecting.” his throat no longer burned, but he still was quiet. He was a quiet person before, there was too much wasted energy in yelling. He forces his hand to stop moving- it had changed to a different stim since he last paid it any attention- clenching it tight to feel his fingernails dig into his palm. The feeling of unrest only grows in magnitude. He shifts on his feet to face Naegi fully. It makes sense, now that he thinks about it. Naegi wasn’t the most skilled, even his luck was a small flame to the monstrosity to Komedea’s. 

But who better to send after the manufactured Ultimate Hope, than the Ultimate Hope who earned his title? 

He had plenty of data on Naegi from what he saw from Junko’s killing game broadcast, and from the brief times they’ve spoken in person before he entered the Program. He doubts he would need any update from the months he has been in the program, that's just the way Naegi is. Perfected just how he is now.

Naegi looked at a loss for words. The others must be back to how they were before Junko's brainwashing. Does that mean Hope won? Given the state they will be in, this can’t be the most hopeful time in their life. It wasn’t a defined answer. 

“Hajime Hinata was already dead when Junko’s plan took action,” Izuru explains. “She never brainwashed me into despair like the others. The Neo World Program was a success. Hajime Hinata will not come back to this body. Both are true. His memories and personality were permanently suppressed to make room for my talents.”

He says that because that is what's true on paper. Every file on him will say the same. 

And yet. He.. remembers. 

He remembers playing games with Chiaki by the fountain.

Those were not Izuru Kamakura’s memories. He closes his eyes and digs a bit deeper. He remembers Hinata’s house. Not the cell room they kept Kamaura in. The house was.. Warmer. Empty, but it was still Home. 

He keeps his eyes closed and turns around again to continue walking.

“Ah-” Naegi is quick to follow in step, walking close behind, probably not even realizing the possible danger. Or maybe he did realize, and he trusted Kamakura enough to be close anyway. 

Izuru kept his eyes closed, not worried about running into anything as he focused. His hand was still clenched into a fist, but he started rolling his wrists, something small to ground himself and help him focus. 

“Oh,” Naegi sounded pleasantly surprised in noticing the movement, “I do something like that too when trying to think- it helped me a lot in the class trials.” 

Izuru ignores him.

The walk on the stony path to Hope's Peak. Dodging the rain when he so carelessly forgot an umbrella. 

Cooking dinner and doing the dishes in his home’s kitchen. Eating dinner with his parents, if they did come home at all. 

Getting grades back from Teachers. Skipping rocks at the lake with friends. He can't remember their faces now, but he remembered smiling. 

He shouldn’t have these. These memories shouldn’t belong to him anymore. That must be what was slowing his thought process down- something opened up and Hinata’s memories were coming back to him. 

“How terribly aggravating..” his fingers come up onto his scalp to grip onto strands of slick hair. 

“Kamukura? Are you alright?”

“Don’t call me that.” 

What? No. That wasn't what he meant to say. Kamukura was his name. Izuru Kamukura. Izuru Kamukura. Izuru Kamukura. Izuru Kamukura. Izuru Kamukura. That was his name. 

He shakes his head, standing still finally. Naegi was watching him, probably had been this whole time. Izuru looks at him, an expectant look in his eyes. “You followed me for a reason, didn’t you?” the tone was different and he could tell. It wasn’t an appearing apathetic Izuru, it was an impatient Hinata. He felt like clawing out his own voice box for not obeying him. 

“Um, yeah, let’s just join the others, okay? We still need to check your vitals and check in on what you remember. And then there is the question of what you want to do next... Kyoko, Byakuya, and I are going to have to head to the Future Foundation headquarters soon. It’s up to you guys to determine your own future, right?” 

The question sent a jolt through Izuru, making his shoulders twitch back, and the corner of his mouth twitch up into the slightest hint of a smile. He quickly corrects his lips back into a small, thin line. “Right.” 

He follows Naegi, mostly because he felt too tired to argue, and the hallways were starting to repeat and get boring. 

The control room had a different feeling in it now that the Survivors were on their feet and dressed. They chose their previous school attire and Izuru is not looking forward to his choices of clothing. But he couldn't stay in this robe. 

Fuyuhiko asks him about his personal state, but Izuru ignores him. Naegi is kind enough to corral them all away for a moment while Izuru picks up the pile of clothes awaiting him. He doesn't look anywhere else in the room except the floor under his feet. He’d be too observant and too curious. Surely they want their Hope dressed before he gets to work at the program. 

As he suspected. Short sleeve white button-up with a green tie and casual black pants. He brushes his long hair over his shoulders, besides the lock that persistently falls in the middle of his face. 

“So.. Hajime,” Souda’s dark roots had grown out, pushing out some of the bright pink. His forearms were covered with burns and scars from being too close and careless with the makings of his machines.

“That is not my name,” Izuru says calmly to contrast the reaction he anticipates. 

“WHAT? Don’t tell me you’re still brainwashed! The Program worked, didn’t it? I mean, I’m better! You guys are better too, right? You're not just tricking me?” Souda’s paranoia sets him on edge. If only the group were that smart to only pretend to be fixed. 

“Don’t be fucking stupid, we are better.” Fuyuhiko reassures, in his own way. He’s left the eyepatch sitting somewhere, the scar over his permanently closed eye on display.

“Yeah come on, would we lie to you?” Akane slaps Souda’s back a bit too hard than either of them can handle and they both wince. Akane’s frame was more malnourished than the rest of them, expending so much energy with so little intake, pushing herself past her limit far too many times. It was only her resolve and strong attitude that kept her standing at the moment.

Izuru was uncomfortable in these clothes, even if they fit him exactly like before. He slides his finger along the inside of his collar, “My existence as Izuru Kamakura was Hope’s Peak Academy's doing, not Junko Enoshima’s. It is far too late to reverse that now, even after the Neo World Program.” Izuru remembers his deep anger upon waking up and glances away from the others. He should reassure them. Tell them that he was alright, that he would be on their side. But he would hate to lie in this moment. 

“And… Hajime?” Sonia poses the question without speaking it. She appears the most relatively normal out of all of them. A princess had to keep up an image to have so many follow her every command.

Izuru was confused. They didn’t know the reserve course student when they attended the Academy. Their only memories of him were in the virtual world. A reflection, an idea of what was. Their idea of Hajime Hinata is no more concrete than the AI of Chiaki Nanami. Even less so, actually. Still, he could see the sorrow in their eyes as they awaited the answer. 

“I… Apologize. That I am not who you want me to be.” every word felt like trying to talk while eating cotton. So much for not lying to them. 

“Eh, fuck that.” The yakuza spoke with a shrug. “At least you’re alive, you're awake. You got Hajime’s memories, right? You gotta live for him, don't let the life he gave you go to waste.” 

It really wasn’t that simple.

But Izuru allowed them to believe so. 

He nods and glances at the pods holding their companions. “I possess many talents. I’m sure with some time, I can bring them back to you.” 

There it was. That feeling, that shift in the air, like electricity. 

Hope. 

The Foundation members watched them, not sharing their thoughts that it could be impossible. That it would take a miracle. They would discuss that later, on their way out to the shore. They would voice the worries for the Survivors, who unanimously decided to stay on the island for the time being. Izuru follows them out on the dock, giving simple nods to Naegi’s many questions that he’s sure about this. The Detective reminds him that he should be more worried about himself once they get to the Headquarters. The two tease the lucky student about not helping him this time, but Izuru has enough data to know better. 

The other four were at the sides of their sleeping loved ones or looking around the real Jabberwock Island to decipher how they would live there comfortably for as long as it takes. Izuru is the only one to see the ship off. 

He was left with uncertainty. Of his mind and his memories. Of what his name was. Of where he stood along with the 77th class. 

But at the very least, he had a task at hand. He could focus on that, and the other answers could come later.

Choosing his own future, one step at a time.


	2. Chapter 2

They sort out the living situation- though most of them will be spending most of their time in the main room with the pods most significant to them. 

Izuru looks over every pod, trying to analyze who might wake up first once he starts deciphering the coding of the corrupted program. Somehow, he was still expecting Chiaki to be sleeping soundly in one of them. A tiny, foolish flame of hope that is quickly snuffed out. 

He lingers over Komedea. Besides Chiaki, Komedea may be the person he was closest to within the Program. They didn’t get along, but Komedea made things.. Interesting. Izuru looks back at the memories of the class trials and thinks almost fondly towards the things Hajime found irritating. That feeling of curiosity made Izuru wish he had paid more attention to what happened to the Lucky Student in his time of despair.

Komedea held his answer to Izuru’s debate close to his heart, and Izuru wanted to inspect every little detail of such a strong belief. In a world where despair and hope mingle, Nagito has held onto what would be triumphant with such confidence. 

Izuru won’t be able to learn more if they stay in a comatose. 

He sets to work. 

The others don’t talk to him much while he’s working. Partly because they don’t want to interrupt, and partly because they have no idea what they would say to him.

He was a stranger. Unlike the familiar classmates, any memories with Izuru Kamakura would be things they wouldn’t want to remember. Days of despair when the Ultimate Hope would come by and watch their plans unfold. They never knew if he was there to be just a spectator or a supervisor to see if their usefulness still stood strong.

They were uneasy around him and he understood that. He didn’t look up from the screen when they came to bring him meals. He figured it was the most respectful thing he could do. When the ultimate programmer took a break, the ultimate therapist wrote down a few things for them to work on in their free time. It wasn’t enough, but there was nothing Izuru could do about that. He couldn't be the group's therapist for so many reasons, and they could only help each other so much. They would live with themselves while they can, and maybe someday they would be able to talk to professionals. 

A voice in his head tells him one day,  _ this code reminds me of you, Izuru. _

He knows that this voice belongs to him, and only him, but still, he bites.  _ How so? _

_ Well, everything is still intact, everything is still there. It just is buried. There is so much to dig through and process, but the baseline is waiting for you.  _

He focuses solely on the code for a few minutes before responding,  _ He is not coming back. I am here now. Some of his memories have resurfaced, but he is not coming back. You are Izuru Kamakura.  _

>You are the World Destroyer.

The AI takes the remodeling, so Izuru’s task becomes much easier. The AI will do a deep dive into the subconscious of the sleeping patient, destroying each level in order to reach where the true avatar is hiding. He explains this to the Survivors. He’s not sure how long it will take, but everything is running smoothly so far, and he will keep a close eye so no further damage is done. The AI will only take steps to bring them back safely.

Izuru glances to the ground as tears rise into all their eyes. Even those who have a history of hiding their emotions can’t pretend with something like this. 

It was interesting, Hope felt different in this scenario. It wasn’t an electric feeling like an exposed wire. More like the overwhelming warmth from inside a bakery. It surrounded them and held them close in an embrace. Izuru was fine in witnessing that from a distance, but the group had other plans.

Sonia is the first to throw her arms around Izuru, crying softly into his chest. Fuyuhiko hugs him from the side like he was going to just put an arm around Izuru’s shoulder, but something compelled him to take it further. He was making the softest noises in his attempt to not sob, unlike Akane who was very vocal in her cries. Kazuichi practically hides his tears in Izuru’s shoulder, pushed closer with Akane's strong arms around as much of the group she could manage. 

Izuru stood in the center of this group hug with his arms by his side and his hands curled into fists. He swallows, feeling stiff and awfully aware of the places on him that were getting damp with tears. No one said anything, too caught up in the emotion. Izuru just attempted not to shake as the pillar holding this group together. 

Though maybe that image carries over outside of this hug. If Hinata were the one to come back, would he still hold the talents necessary to bring about this outcome? The groups hope to bring their friends back would have crumbled without some form of talent helping them. 

Maybe it was a good thing Izuru was the one to return. 

“Um,” He finds his voice rising in his throat before he actually had any idea that he wanted to say something. The uncertainty wasn't something that he was used to. His fingers start moving, fidgeting and bending at the joints in turn in order to combat this new feeling. He’s lived a quiet life of not speaking unless he knew the right thing to say. He made the initial start and now had nowhere to go but still felt the need to talk. He opens his mouth again even with no voice to fill it.

“Thank you, Izuru,” Fuyuhiko says, succeeding in holding back his sobs while his hold on Izuru gets a bit tighter. 

Izuru’s body slowly relaxes, bit by bit. He closes his eyes and accepts the physical touch. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izuru remembers the first time he met each Remnant.

Kazuichi was in his garage, wiring a bomb into another monokuma plushie. He had plenty of machines to do this menial task to perfection, but at times he enjoyed the hands-on approach. The mechanic only wore his gloves to work with the explosive- his jumpsuit was tied at the waist so there was no protection on his upper arms. Or his face for that matter. Izuru saw the mistake coming with the way Souda’s hand was shaking with excitement. Probably imagining the way the intended victims' bones would be exposed once the trigger was set off. 

It was the Ultimate track star and the Ultimate bodyguard that helped him rush in and cover him in time. The whole work desk was in two, and Izuru had to brush the debris off his suit. Souda was more concerned with his invention gone wrong than the mysterious boy with long hair who saved him. He didn’t even question him when Izuru instructed him in ways to improve. Staying with Kazuichi for some time proved interesting, the explosions were erratic, and Izuru could entertain himself by predicting just where shrapnel would fall. But Souda was a mechanic, and a mechanics job is to make everything run as smoothly as possible. When things go as planned, Izuru gets bored. 

Plus, Souda was a bit simple-minded. 

“Kamukura! Look I’ve appreciated the help man, but destroying empty buildings… What's the deal? The drones have checked already, no ones in there. Why bring something down if it ain’t gonna kill anything?” 

Izuru blinks at him slowly to give Souda enough time to recognize his idiocy. No such luck, Kazuichi just stared at him in the same, confused way. 

“Your goal is to destroy hope, yes?” His voice was quiet, smooth. “If you really want to crush the hope of any survivors, your goal isn’t to kill them. Think as though you are a rat, scurrying out of the rain. You’ll hide in anything that puts a cover over your head. But if there is nowhere to go…” He lets himself trail off, but Souda still seems to be expecting more. Izuru steps closer, “Your goal is to destroy the hope of the future. Anything you keep standing will only serve as a baseline to rebuild a new hope, a new world that is not overrun with despair. Make it harder to take the first step towards the future. Your goal is to leave them with nothing.” 

Souda gets it this time, grinning with sharp teeth. “Oh, you are good, Kamakura.” He starts sending in the bombs, Izuru turning and walking away. 

He doubts the mechanic notices he's gone the next day.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izuru remembers the first time he met each Remnant.

Tanaka was much more difficult to get close to. Not impossible of course, but with the army of wild beasts at his command, trampling everything in sight, Kamukura knew that Gundham wasn’t looking for any human companions. 

Izuru could understand that desire. 

Upon further inspection, it is clear that the animals were in perfect sync. A kitten could trot alongside an elephant and still be in pace, with no worry of being the next victim of the giant. 

He watches the Breeder for some time. But the animals were so obedient to their ruler's simple task, that it became easy to predict, and therefore boring. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izuru remembers the first time he met each Remnant.

Queen Sonia Nevermind did not have the best security team in her palace. Though it was hard for normal people to catch the Ultimate Spy, or defeat the Ultimate soldier, Ultimate boxer and street fighter, or Ultimate Assassin. 

He opens the door to the office, greeted with two swords crossing in front of his face. Izuru wasn't amused and looked past the blades to see the Queen looking back at him. Her rigid posture told him that she didn’t get unexpected visitors often. Hm, maybe the security team really was the best she had. She stood, thinking she was clever when she hid the dagger within one of those oversized flowers on her dress. 

“Who are you? State your business here or my guards will slit your throat.” The Despair in her eyes told Izuru she wanted to do so much more. She was being held back by the role of the Monarch. Always giving orders and only able to watch from a distance as they are followed through, never able to feel the blood on her hands. She had countless deaths on her conscience, but she still wasn't satisfied. 

Izuru takes a step back from the swords so he may bow properly, “Your Highness, it’s an honor to meet you finally. I am Izuru Kamakura. I am a friend of Junko.” Friend was not the word he would ever use for Enoshima, but there were few people on this Earth who knew about the true Mastermind, so it was the right thing to say. 

Sonia was still uncertain but she waves her hand and the guards go back to standing position. Good, Izuru thought their deaths would be boring. 

Sonia Nevermind attempts to kill him many times in his stay with her. 

The first was when he introduced himself and she went to hug him like an old friend. He sidestepped her advance so the dagger didn't pierce his abdomen. 

Second is when she invited him for tea that afternoon to discuss what he was doing here. He wonders how many fools fell for the hospitality act and put the poisoned sugar into their tea themselves. He declined the use of sugar in his tea four times before she realized that he knew. 

Third is later in the week when he inspected a dish at dinner and asked who her cook was- no, he doesn’t like to be called a cook, does he? Chef. She grabbed the carving knife and lunged across the table, screaming in frustration. When the blade only got stuck on the empty seat, she gave herself a few moments to collect herself. She couldn't even put on her smile to tell Izuru the chef’s name. 

Fourth was that same night, when she brought Izuru to the kitchen, pushing him inside and locking a gated door from the outside. “Teruteru~” she calls out sweetly. As Izuru expected, another Remnant. He expected him to be in the city, but Sonia must have found a use for him here for a while. 

“Oh, my Queen! What an absolutely divine surprise, you never come down here yourself!” Teruteru was bent in half in his deep bow. He may as well be blind to Izuru. 

“Dinner was marvelous, my dear chef. But... I’m still feeling a bit peckish. Could you perhaps work your magic for me again?” Sonia gestures to Izuru with all the grace and elegance in the world. 

“But of course, My Queen~” Hanamura was almost drooling, reaching into his apron for a knife. Izuru’s suspicion on the source of the meat at dinner was only confirmed by this exchange. 

He doesn’t kill Teruteru, he believes he still can be useful in Junko’s world. It was fascinating what the despair hypnosis did to the brain, ridding them of the need for survival. With his head over the open flame, Hanamura still didn’t beg for his life, he just laughed and asked Izuru what he would do with his body. 

With the chef subdued, Izuru spent some time in the kitchen to watch him work before picking the lock on the gate and going back to his room. 

Needless to say, the Fifth time was when Sonia saw Izuru come to breakfast in the morning. 

Izuru starts talking while avoiding everything she threw at him, “You’re tired, aren’t you, princess? You are finding yourself at the brink. You want to do more than give orders, but you don't think you have the ability. Caught up in your image and your credibility.” 

“I am the QUEEN. BOW DOWN, PEASANT!” She threw two trays of food at him, now that she ran out of sharp silverware. “I can do ANYTHING I  _ WANT _ !”

“Yes, you can. That is what I'm trying to tell you.” 

Sonia was on top of the table, marching over pastries and eggs, kicking the teapot of boiled water at him. 

“You’re a Goddess to all of them, princess. You could do anything you want, and they would still listen to you. You could be drenched in the blood of their brethren, and your smile would win them over.”

She goes to jump on him, but luck is in his favor. Her heel slips on the tablecloth and she falls face down to the ground. Manicured nails grip onto her hair in utter frustration as she screams. 

Izuru stands over her, “Think about what I said. The cure for boredom is not easy for me, but it may be for you.” He starts to walk out, “I’ve overstayed my visit. Thank you for the hospitality, Queen Nevermind.” 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izuru remembers the first time he met each Remnant.

As a thank you for the time in her castle, Izuru takes the obsessive chef off her hands.

Hanamura talks a lot. In the kitchen, he was swept up in his passion, but as a travel partner, he enjoyed telling all his... Recipes of the past. Izuru found some stories more interesting than others, but at times he missed the silence of traveling alone. 

When the chef tries petting his silky hair on more than one occasion, Izuru decides that their time together would be over.

He parts with Hanamura in a place where he can thrive as the killer cannibalistic chef. The city was filled with businessmen who had the security to stay safe. The introduction of a graduate of Hope's Peak when it was still standing, a high-class chef offering free service? They wouldn't even comprehend the danger, and it would be their downfall.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izuru remembers the first time he met each Remnant.

He met Mahiru after spending some time alone, conducting his own research. Despite seeing so much despair, he felt his question was unanswered. 

14 for Despair. 13 for Hope. 

That was his tally so far. 

When the Izuru Kamakura project was kept secret, he was left bored, sitting in his cell. His mind would supply him with different experiments. Curiosities the world didn’t have the answers to because of the ethical dilemma to work with human subjects. But now, many of the Ultimates who lived by those rules are dead, and their talents beg to study. 

Ideas of experiments kept secret from the teachers who brought him to life were now able to be tested. 

After every experiment, should the subject survive, he offers them a choice. Their two options: one, Izuru could kill them. As swiftly and painlessly as he could, put them out of their misery. Fall into despair and give up after so much suffering. Two, he would let them go. He would fix up their wounds, aid them with the food and water supply he had. They would live and hope that they survive the horrible world outside. 

Despair or Hope? 

Hope or Despair? 

He was covered in blood, exiting a building (15 Despair. 13 Hope) when he heard the click of a camera.

The photographer wasn’t even trying to hide, smiling ear to ear as the polaroid slides out of the camera. She waves it while she walks over, “Want to see? I think you look great!” 

He wipes off his fingers to not smear blood on it.

She looks at him expectantly to see what he thought, but before he could say anything she gets closer, “Want to see my collection?” The despair covered her eyes like a film. Izuru gives a small nod and is taken by the hand to be dragged away. 

The collection was extensive and impressive. It appears Mahiru has been living the same as him, visiting every other remnant. Though her purpose clearly was to capture their evil deeds as it happened, letting them live forever in film. 

Izuru compliments her work. Though many of the atrocities were nothing new to him, she manages to capture the true despair through her lens. It was horrific. And impressive.

Mahiru asks him to stay. She wants to share more of her work with him and asks to take more pictures of him. She only just now saw his many freckles and wanted close-ups.

He joined her for a concert the two performers, Mioda and Saionji, were holding- at a safe distance, of course. Any details he missed from being so far away could be found in the photos Mahiru took of that night. 

He helps where he can. He possessed the talents of countless performers and managers and tech-savvy roadies who knew exactly what to tweak to make their performances shine brighter. He had no advice to give Mahiru. 

Mahiru was a force that was underestimated. She didn't have the attack of Ibuki and Hiyoko, but her talent was truly something special. Images can be a powerful thing. Practically burned into a brain if it is shocking enough, and the more you want to forget, the more it lingers. A second-hand memory, but a memory nonetheless. 

He announces that he would be moving on. Hiyoko, wrapped around Mahiru, insults him while asking him to stay for longer. The three work well together. 

Izuru declines. 

He watches them from afar for much longer than they realized. The performances were interesting, but the music made him stim and squirm in ways he was tired of masking. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izuru remembers the first time he met each Remnant.

He was almost surprised to find so many of them together. 

The two, Akane and Nekomaru, thought that they had Izuru cornered. Like dogs protecting their territory, they didn’t appreciate he had wandered onto their streets. 

Their attacks were much more clumsy and rushed than he expected from Ultimates. The wolf Akane surely had the ferocity, but it was clear she hadn’t thought about her physical state in days. Low on rest and energy. It was easy to pin her down and use her as leverage to get Nekomaru to stand down. 

Something about being beat made them laugh, and they invited Izuru back to their base. 

There he meets their boss, the Leader of the Kuzuryu clan, and his right-hand woman. 

He pays his respects upon entering and congratulates them on the engagement. Fuyuhiko and Peko both reach for their weapons, not very friendly to a new face. He pays them no mind, knowing Fuyuhiko would be too busy barking for an explanation from the guard dogs, and Peko wouldn’t strike without orders from Kuzuryu. So he spends some time looking around the Yakuzas office while Peko keeps an eye on him. She has questions from him, but wouldn’t ask. 

How dull.

Once Kuzuryu’s attention was back on Izuru- meaning there was a barrel of a gun pressed against his throat- he’s finally able to explain who he is. 

“Well why didn’t you fucking say so.” Kuzuryu grumbles, putting his firearm away. 

His time with them was the most organized. Pekoyama and Kuzuryu were competent and fearsome leaders, even if their task force left something to be desired. Izuru didn’t find many ways they could improve. 

At most he forced Akane to actually eat something so she could be performing at her best. She complained, moaning about wanting to feel the despair of starving. Izuru said she could do whatever she liked once he was gone. But if he were there, she should be functioning properly. 

Something about the way Pekoyama stayed by Kuzuryu’s side intrigued him. When he looked at them working together, his thoughts always turned to the hairpin in his pocket. 

He didn’t allow himself to dwell on it and left sooner than he wanted to. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izuru remembers the first time he met each Remnant.

He only saw a glimpse of Nagito Komaeda in all this time. It was after the killing game had ended, and Junko Enoshima was dead. Izuru made his way back to the place it all started, Hope's Peak Academy. The place was no longer crawling with Future Foundation members, so he walked in the front door. He knew Junko wouldn’t let her death stop any of this. Surely there was something left for all of them. 

Izuru didn’t have any fond memories of this place, so he only went to the places that mattered, where Junko might have left something. Within his search, he found himself at the Execution room. He stood at the doorway, the dried blood splatter still threatened to make the bottom of his shoes sticky. 

He spotted him standing on top of the iron block that had crushed the Ultimate Despair. He almost seemed to be.. Praying? Then he drops into the abyss that once swallowed up Makoto Naegi. 

Izuru can theorize on what he hopes to find down there, but believes it has no consequence to him. 

He finds what he was looking for. A flash drive with a twisted version of the AI created by the Ultimate Programmer. Junko's true specialty was using someone's talents against them. 

He leaves without seeing if Komedea makes it out of the trash room. 

On his way out, however, he runs into the Nurse. Very much literally runs into her. 

The poor one's mind was the most damaged out of all the Remnants, as she was the guinea pig for Junko’s brainwashing. She’s conducted experiments like Izuru, so he takes the time to talk to her and discuss their findings. But the way she sits so close to him. The way she compliments him with a waver in her voice and a blush in her cheeks. The way she hooks her leg over his, placing her hand on his chest to try and undo his tie. The way she sobbed when he gently moved her off of him. He knows that he wouldn't be able to spend any more time with her. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izuru remembers the first time he met each Remnant.

The meeting with the Imposter was brief. 

They passed each other on the rooftops of a city that was still standing. They were dressed like an influential businessman, but they didn’t fool Izuru. The way the Imposter stared told him that Izuru didn’t fool them either. 

“Who are you? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.” The Imposter straightened up, standing tall despite the uneven ground between them. 

“No one important enough to impersonate,” Izuru replied, long hair beginning to billow in the soft wind. 

The Imposter chuckled, “I somehow doubt that..” 

What was it within Izuru that didn’t fool them? There was something in their eyes, hidden just beyond the despair clouding their mind. Something that understood so much but revealed nothing. 

The Imposter’s footing shifted. 

“You have somewhere to be. I won’t keep you.” Izuru turns his back to them and starts walking.

The meeting with the Imposter was brief. But not at all boring. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izuru remembers the first time he met each Remnant.

Of course, he had a longer encounter with Komedea on the way to Jabberwock island.

He didn’t mind the silence, keeping his eyes closed to keep the uncertainty alive for just a bit longer. He didn’t want to know his travel partner- though the possibilities are limited. Should they be conscious, some of them should have responded to his presence already. 

He could feel his lips stretch to a slight smile as the room trembles and lulls. Steadying himself with his foot, this may be the most interesting place he’s been in years. 

As he expected, it didn’t last long. 

“Do you... Like ships?” The voice was so unique to itself, shaky and breathless, and yet the hidden underlying feeling of confidence keeps it somewhat steady. 

Nagito Komedea, the student he was the least familiar with. Much like the others, the moment Izuru saw him he could feel the despair that had infected his mind, hidden poorly behind the victim's eyes. 

Izuru couldn’t tell if Komedea was simple enough to believe the words he rambled on about. If so, he was just as boring as Izuru expected. 

He remembered the night in Junko's hideout when Komedea brought a weapon to stop her. He replays that memory, thinking of the look on Komedea’s face as he lay on the ground, on the verge of losing consciousness. 

Komedea asked why he was there on the ship.

Izuru fed him a lie and didn’t answer. The memory was what kept him invested in this conversation, otherwise, Izuru would have ignored him by now.

Komedea’s curiosity grew as he was given what he desired to hear. He asked more questions.

Izuru knew the room wasn't being monitored with audio, just video. So with making no movements, Izuru admitted to having something in his possession that the Ultimate Despair herself left for them all. 

Junko started this story by using Izuru’s image. It seemed fitting this is how it may end. A true battle of hope or despair. The depths of his mind would be revealed in the Neo World Program, and dead or alive, he would get his answer. 

Though, the pawn Nagito Komedea didn’t need to worry about that. 

He said he hated Junko. He wanted to kill her. 

Izuru’s eyes drift to the woman's hand at the end of the bandage. So Izuru was right, he checked the trash room for what was left of the body and found something salvageable. 

Izuru learned something. Komedea’s existence loved to contradict itself.

Feigned inferiority until gaining the upper hand. Talks of luck when captured and imprisoned. Admits to hating someone that he worships. He didn’t know himself anymore. 

He had the potential to be so interesting. It was a shame their time was cut short, Izuru could have improved him.


	12. Chapter 12

Izuru Kamukura lied. He said that there would be no reason for him to see Komedea again. He had believed it to be true at the time, but things have changed. 

He sat next to the pod that held the Lucky student. A mechanical arm sat in his lap as he worked with the wirings. Kazuichi did an impressive job with the base, but there are improvements only the Ultimate neurologist, orthotist, and prosthetist could make. 

Junko’s arm would be preserved like the rest of the body in the pod, but Izuru doubts that would be forever. Besides, all the others had gotten rid of anything that marked their time as Remnants of Despair. They weren’t running from their past or attempting to forget, they used it as a step to rewrite themselves as new, better people. 

Others have woken up. Not many. 

Nekomaru Nidai.

Mahiru Koizumi. 

Ibuki Mioda. 

It’s clear that the order they wake up has nothing to do with the way they died within the program. The World Destroyer was working smoothly for the rest of them, some just had more layers than others. 

Akane and Nekomaru held each other for a very long time when he woke up. Fuyuhiko watched, his hand resting on the glass of Peko’s pod. He hasn’t moved very far from that spot these days. 

Mahiru sits with him sometimes and they talk. Mahiru sits next to Hiyoko most days, but some days she and Sonia sit next to every filled pod. Izuru attempts to be reassuring by telling them that the comatose subjects can’t feel lonely, but Mahiru’s slight glare tells him that it wasn't the right thing to say. If she’s not next to someone, her gaze drifts off somewhere else. Izuru often had to place his hand on her shoulder to get her attention, giving a small shake of his head. He knows the atrocities she revisits and advises against lingering on the memories too long. 

He brings her her camera. She hasn’t touched it since she's woken up. He knew what he could say to make her feel better, but felt as though he didn’t have the right. Instead, he points to his freckles. “I don’t think the lighting was ever good enough to capture them at their best. Do you think you could try again?” 

He enjoys the soft feeling in his chest when she smiles and takes the camera.

That was a very beautiful day on the island. Ibuki collected flowers and worked with Kazuichi to decorate everyone's hair for a photo shoot. 

Fuyuhiko was on the first shift to stay inside in case anyone woke up, but Izuru soon took his place. The yakuza was hesitant to leave her side. Izuru knew there would be too much to discuss when she wakes, and it would be overwhelming. Fuyuhiko needed this time now before that. He promises to call for him, should she wake up. 

He walks around the room, taking flowers out of his hair and toying with them, naming their anatomy and nomenclature as a distraction. But the thoughts come anyway 

Kazuichi was gentle in combing his hair. Sonia gave him a smile and complimented him, and it was genuine. Fuyuhiko trusted him with the person he loved the most in this world. The others did too. They were kind. 

They saw him as an equal. As one of them. 

His brain tries to supply a what-if scenario and he quickly diminishes it. There were many variables that played into Junko Enoshima's plan. They fell into place perfectly, and there was nothing to be done to change that now. 

He places a flower on each pod that was still in use. 

It was days like this where he was at odds with himself. Days like this he was happiest. Days like this he was terrified of the future. Days like this he was thankful for who he was. Days like this he wished Izuru Kamakura had died. 

There were no more flowers in his hair and he was left combing the empty, silky strands. He collects the bulk of it within his hands. He starts walking to the kitchen. 

They’re taking precautions. Despair did not infect their minds anymore, but they were not in a sound mental place, so most potentially dangerous objects were locked up in a way that gave someone time to rethink why they needed it. Or time to be caught. He undoes each layer of locks and grabs the scissors. 

The Ultimate stylist, hairdresser, beauty guru, and many others scream for him not to do this, but the scissors were already chopping at the long strands. 

The scraps disposed of, the scissors put back safely. He combs through what remained and moves back to the control room. 

There was something amusing about the double-take almost everyone has to do when they come back in to clean up. Izuru keeps a straight face as Ibuki starts touching him and running her fingers through his hair, checking to see if he just pinned it up. 

It was shoulder-length now, choppy but not too terribly uneven. The strand that hung over his face now just barely came past his chin. 

He liked the change. He felt physically lighter, but it was also as though a burden was taken away. It was a compromise that seemed so clear now, he was surprised he didn’t think to do it sooner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I am here for short hair Kamukura :]


	13. Chapter 13

Hiyoko Saionji.

Teruteru Hanamura.

Gundham Tanaka

Mikan Tsumiki.

The Imposter.

Peko Pekoyama. 

All of them woke up. Some earlier than Izuru expected, some later than everyone was hoping for. Even with his talents, it took time to delve into the deep trauma in their subconscious.

Each woke up in a different state. There were many tears through the group for so many different reasons. But their numbers were growing, they were becoming whole again. 

There was only one left.

There were still some good days, some bad. Most of them would take turns in the Lab, waiting for the last student to wake up. They tell Izuru stories of all the wild things that happened when they still attended Hope's Peak. Hinata might have been jealous, but Izuru just liked listening to everyone’s laughter in recalling the good days of the past. 

There are days when they feel sick to their stomachs due to memories, and they can't talk without tears coming to their eyes and a lump forming in their throat. There are some days they want to be alone. Some when they can’t let go of someone’s hand, their rock reminding them that they are real and this world is real.

Izuru finds himself smiling more. Things he found boring are much better when with friends. 

He no longer asks himself if Hope or Despair holds the answer. He takes one day at a time. 

And then it happens. 

The pod opens and there’s Nagito Komedea. The last student to wake up. The Last Remnant to be free from Despair. 

He was staring up at the ceiling, gasping and shaking. It was late at night, only Izuru was in the lab. He sends a message to the others so they would come as soon as possible. 

Izuru leans over the other but it takes a moment for Nagito’s eyes to find him. “Hey, can you hear me?” 

“Ah, Izuru Kamakura..? No, you’re... Hajime Hinata, right?” Nagito's voice was raspy and tired like most of them upon first waking. 

Izuru was used to the confusion from the others that woke up. Helping Nagito sit up, he could answer with a slight smile. “They’re both me.”

He could hear the footsteps of the others making their way to greet their classmate. 

Nagito asks about the others. Izuru can hear the door start to open. The first step towards their future. 

“You’re the last one up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the read!! I liked writing it, and this is my first finished work in a while. 
> 
> *holds Sdr2 cast in my hands* I care them.
> 
> Love you, take care of yourself <3


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